Other Half
by miss-coverly
Summary: Viktor had gone to the grocery store. He would be back in ten minutes, he'd said. "Viktor, whose dog is that?" ... Viktor had not come back with any groceries. In which Makkachin needs a buddy, and Viktor and Yuuri are the ultimate dog family. Pure fluff, pure Viktuuri. Oneshot.


**A/N:** Hello, everyone! This is my first YOI fic - this anime has quickly consumed my life, so I just had to write _something_ for it. And that something ended up being _very_ fluffy. *squee*

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Yuri On Ice.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Other Half**

Viktor had gone to the grocery store. He would be back in ten minutes, he'd said.

He entered their flat's door over an hour later. This was not very surprising, considering that Viktor became easily lost in unfamiliar areas... as well as easily distracted when shopping was involved.

They'd rented out this particular flat in metropolitan Japan a few weeks ago. Viktor had wanted them in a more centralized location so that Yuuri could keep up with his various PR commitments, while also staying on a rigorous training schedule for the World Championships.

Yuuri sat hunched over on their sleek gray couch, reviewing some practice recordings on his phone. He looked up at the sound of the door clicking open. His eyes widened almost enough to pop out of their sockets.

"Viktor, whose dog is that?"

... Viktor had not come back with any groceries.

"He's ours, of course," Viktor beamed, ruffling the furry head of the chihuahua in his arms. "I adopted him today!"

True to form, Viktor never failed to surprise Yuuri.

Yuuri pushed his glasses up his nose, to make sure he was seeing this clearly. They hadn't had any discussions recently about getting another dog. Yuuri wondered if this had been a spur of the moment decision, or if Viktor was simply being predictably unpredictable, as always.

Viktor was now sprawled out on his back, limbs outstretched on the carpet. Their new pet tumbled around on top of Viktor, licking his face, hands, everything in sight. His fur was all black, except for the splotch of white on his face. Yuuri suppressed a huge giggle when the puppy started pawing at Viktor's platinum fringe with over-sized black paws.

"Um, Viktor?" Yuuri prompted.

After a moment, Viktor managed to subdue the licks and prop himself up on an elbow. His face was a bit shiny in the light - Yuuri blushed. It was from _dog slobber_ , of all things.

"Yes, Yuuri?" Seeing his expression, Viktor smirked. Then he rubbed a sleeve across his face - because even though he liked to see Yuuri blush, his face now felt _disgusting_.

"Well... why exactly did you think we needed another dog?"

Viktor smiled blissfully. "You can never have too many dogs!"

"But... so soon after the Grand Prix?" Yuuri added.

"He's a celebratory addition to the family, then!" Viktor thrust his arms into the air with a flourish. The puppy promptly jumped back into his arms, pushing him down into a sprawled-out position once more. Between the foot of the couch and the wall, Viktor barely had enough room to stretch out entirely.

Even as he contemplated who was cuter - the puppy or Viktor - Yuuri found his attention being pulled back to another pressing issue.

"Do you think we have room for another dog here?" asked Yuuri. The flat had one bedroom, one bathroom. A kitchen, a dining nook, and a small living room. They probably could've afforded something a bit bigger, but Viktor liked to keep their living situation less grand, and more... intimate.

Yuuri could not say he minded.

"I mean," he continued, gesturing down at Viktor's cramped limbs, "I think you're a little tall to be stretched out on our floor as it is - never mind adding another dog to the pile."

Viktor chuckled. "That _may_ be true." He reached out a hand, which Yuuri readily accepted. The younger man helped him up onto the couch with him.

"But I think adding another dog to the pile - as you put it - is exactly right," he said, his exuberant exterior fading. "I worry about Makkachin, Yuuri. I feel like he has grown a bit lonely, now that he is no longer my only... eh, companion." Viktor cracked a smile, and Yuuri blushed. "And then I saw this handsome boy," he looked down at the puppy, traipsing around on the ground, "and _oh_ \- I just knew he would be the perfect friend for Makka!"

Yuuri watched Viktor's face as he studied the puppy. He marveled at how Viktor's eyes seemed to brighten and soften at the same time, like an ocean current that was constantly ebbing and flowing. In spite of his doubts, he felt himself being pulled into that current, and into Viktor's way of thinking - as was so often the case with Viktor.

"Well," Yuuri said finally, "we'd better get the introductions out of the way, then."

Viktor's smile was wide enough to dimple his cheeks.

* * *

In hindsight, Viktor probably could've coaxed Makkachin into the living room _without_ carrying him. But since Yuuri had stood up and scooped the puppy into his arms, Viktor had felt that it was best to mirror this posture.

The puppy had taken to Yuuri quickly enough. He nestled into the man's arms, burrowing around for warmth. He kept his white face hidden, his body blending right in with Yuuri's black jacket.

The puppy's carefree demeanor immediately changed, however, at the sound of clumsy footfalls entering the room. His ears perked up, and his body began trembling.

 _He can't be more than a month old_ , thought Yuuri. _Everything must seem like a new danger to him._

And perhaps the puppy's fears were not too far off the mark, because there was a six-foot-tall man lumbering around with a full-sized poodle in his arms. And that could very well be a dangerous thing.

"He took to you faster than me," said Viktor, a twinkle in his eye. His breathing was heavy as he took precarious steps to the couch.

Yuuri smiled sheepishly. "He must think I'm warm or something," he said. "I _do_ think he likes being closer to the ground, though," he added, hoping that Viktor would take the hint.

Viktor laughed. "You might be right, Yuuri," he admitted. "You've always had more stamina than me. You haven't even broken a sweat, holding the puppy all this time!"

Yuuri smiled. He didn't have the heart to point out the obvious difference between carrying a chihuahua, and carrying an _adult_ _poodle_.

Viktor plopped Makkachin down on the rug as ceremoniously as was possible; that is to say, not very ceremoniously at all. Yuuri set their puppy down with a bit more care. Then, the two men stepped back from the carpet. It was almost comical how they held hands tightly enough to turn both their knuckles white, watching their pets with baited breath. Would they become fast friends, they both wondered, or would the meeting give rise to some sort of bitter rivalry?

Makkachin was the first of the pair to make an approach. As he padded forward, his normally enthusiastic gait barely made a _thud_ on the plush carpet. This puppy was quite a phenomenon to him. Yuuri could've sworn it was making him _shy_ , of all things - completely unlike Makkachin.

Neither Viktor nor Yuuri dared to breathe as Makkachin began sniffing the trembling puppy; it evoked an image that was _far_ too similar to the Cyclops inspecting Odysseus.

Suddenly, the puppy snorted and lunged at Makkachin. He had a surprising amount of spring in his jump for such a little thing. The movement caught Makkachin completely off guard, and he toppled onto his back.

Viktor gasped - ready to defend the poodle with his life, no doubt - but Yuuri grabbed him by the arm before he could intervene. "Wait! Viktor, look."

The puppy had attacked Makkachin. But, to the men's great relief, his weapon of choice was none other than covering the poodle with licks. Makkachin wasn't bothered at all by the puppy's antics; his tail wagged gleefully as his new friend batted at his ears, clumsily trying to pin him to the ground.

"Wonderful!" Viktor exclaimed, eyes bright. "I was worried there for a moment. I didn't want Makka to crush the little one."

"Oh, no," teased Yuuri, "I think _Makkachin_ is the one who'll have to watch his back when they're playing."

The crease between Viktor's eyebrows faded as he watched the dogs. "It's a bit peculiar," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I must admit, I didn't expect them to befriend each other so quickly. They're as different as can be, and yet... they just fit together. Like it's nothing."

"Well, different people can make something perfect," Yuuri said, smiling, "don't you think?"

Viktor looked at him. "You're so right, Yuuri," he chuckled.

* * *

Viktor's arm was around Yuuri as they sat on the couch. The two dogs had quickly worn each other out with their rough-housing. Makkachin lay sleeping on the carpet, fur and limbs sprawled out in every direction. The puppy had cuddled up next to him; he seemed to be using the bigger dog as his own personal pillow.

"What do you think we should call him?" asked Yuuri.

Viktor didn't miss a beat. "Yuuri," he answered, smiling.

"Plisetsky or Katsuki?" Yuuri teased back, even as a blush crept up his neck.

Viktor ruffled Yuuri's hair, laughing. "Katsuki, of course!"

They were silent for a moment. The only sound in the room was the snoring of dogs.

"Why?" Yuuri asked eventually, pulling at his sleeve. Perhaps he already knew the answer.

Viktor glanced at a frame hanging on the wall. A picture of a poodle, a little smaller than Makkachin - he was overflowing with fluffy brown fur. The inscription on the bottom of the frame read _Rest in Peace, Vicchan._

"Nothing can be complete without its other half," he replied, slipping a hand into Yuuri's.

Before Viktor even had a chance to blink, Yuuri had cupped Viktor's face with his free hand and caught him in a kiss. Sun peaked through the blinds of the flat's windows, dappling the two men - as well as their two dogs - with golden specks of unexpected light.

 _The End_


End file.
